October 12, 2007

"When them cotton balls get rotten, you can't pick very much cotton," goes the old Lead Belly blues classic. This mural adorns the side the Masonic lodge in Jay. I'm beginning to enjoying seeing the murals in each town. I like that they have that connection to their heritage on display. What a day, they day when you could stand on a 5-foot bed of cotton with impunity...before the boll weevil came.

The Masonic lodge was packed.

Peanuts and cotton--that's what Jay does.

Cotton fields forever.

Most towns are littered with beer cans, candy wrappers, and slips of paper. Jay is littered with fresh, wind-blown cotton.

Everyone in Jay was at the Peanut Festival when I got there. I didn't realize that until I left; otherwise I would have. I'm kicking myself for missing it.